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“I need to go check on something,” she said. “And in case I haven’t already said this a thousand times, thanks for all your help. The department has been great, volunteering and all.”
“Sure.” She sensed that he wanted to say something else, but held back.
As luck would have it, by mid-morning, the rain had tamped down to a light drizzle (damn it) and a couple of hours later the sun came out full force.
Cameron was walking the festival grounds with Henry, both of them with their dogs in tow. Henry’s little dachshund-Chihuahua mix, Hector, and Toby were semi-friends (except when one of them tried to sniff the other one’s butt, then the sparks began to fly).
Even Claire was at the festival. Since their “talk” the other night, their relationship had reverted back to their awkward mother-daughter exchanges of before. Not that Mimi regretted confronting Claire. Momma was right. Her only regret would have been if she’d played ostrich and buried her head in the ground. Eventually, Claire would come around. Or at least, Mimi hoped she would.
The booths were all doing slow but steady business, and the entertainment stage had dried out enough that it was now currently besieged by a bevy of little tappers and little ballerinas. Everyone kept stopping her to congratulate her on what a success the whole thing was. Too bad it was all going to explode in her face. Luckily (ha!) Harry Tuba took pity on her. That, and the promise of a two-thousand dollar check had convinced him to “swallow his pride” and perform tonight. It was better than nothing, she supposed. At least the Gray Flamingos liked Harry Tuba. Most of them, anyway.
At four p.m., the committee met for one last time before the scheduled concert.
“I told you this weather would clear up!” Viola said.
Wendy pulled out her planner. “So, I have the volunteers ready to rope off the big grassy area in front of the stage. I figure it will hold around five hundred people. That’s five hundred tickets at twenty-five dollars a pop, which ensures we’ll break even with the band. And maybe we can fit even more.” Her eyes twinkled. “I have a big surprise, too! I managed to get that sweet Rusty and a couple of other police officers to go to a rental place in Destin to get one of those portable dance floors.”
“That’s brilliant!” Bettina squealed. Tofu barked in agreement.
“I know it wasn’t in our budget, and it was crazy expensive to get on such short notice, but when the sun came out I took it as a sign and I just had to do it. So I put it on my credit card.”
“You shouldn’t have,” Mimi said, trying her hardest not to faint.
“Oh, don’t worry! I know the festival committee will pay me back. Every single person I’ve run into today says they can’t wait to hear Fatback Bubba. Did you know they’re going on tour with Billy Brenton? That’s how good they are! The ticket sales will cover the band and the food and drink booths are going to make a killing, which means, we’ll make a killing. This festival is going to do go down in Whispering Bay history!”
It was going to go down in history, all right.
Everyone began talking at once. All happy and excited. Mimi should confess this instant. Except, if she did, then everyone on the committee would be forced to keep her secret. Announcing right now that Fatback Bubba and the Rattlesnakes would be replaced by Harry Tuba would be the kiss of death. The festival would fizzle faster than a wet firecracker and all those vendors and businesses would be out a few hours’ worth of revenue, which could make the difference between turning a profit or not.
No. She’d have to wait till just before they were scheduled to start selling tickets to make the announcement. Of course, no one would pay twenty-five bucks to see Harry Tuba, so they’d have to let everyone in for free. Maybe the festival would clear enough from the refreshment booths for the two grand she’d promised him. If not, then she was going to have to pay him out of her own pocket. Wouldn’t Zeke just love that?
*~*~*
Zeke took a good look at the backstage area to make sure everything was secure for the concert tonight. Electrical outlets had been brought in for the band’s equipment and there was a small trailer to the left where they could hang out until they went on stage. He supposed the band would bring their own people for set up. His job was strictly to make sure everyone stayed on their best behavior. So far, the festival had been going smoothly. Mimi had done a great job and he was proud of her.
He could see how stressed out she was, though. In just a few more hours the festival would be
over and that particular load would be lifted. But there was still the wedding, and all the worrying she was doing over Claire to get through. He hadn’t exactly done anything to help matters. Not when he’d been a total dick to her that night at the cabin. She’d asked him to come back home and he’d thrown it in her face. What was wrong with him? Mimi was right. He’d never dealt with Sam Grant’s desertion. It was like a sore that had never healed and was now infecting the rest of his life.
He went to the ticket booth and talked to the volunteer in charge. Tickets were going to be sold on a strictly cash basis, which made it a security risk for sure. Zeke had arranged for Rusty to be present in the booth at all times. He wasn’t too worried, though. In the history of the festival the worst thing that had ever happened was a traffic jam or a drunk or two having to be escorted off the festival grounds. But it only made sense to be careful.
Allie and Tom were eating turkey legs and checking out the arts and crafts booths. “Can you believe that by this time next week I’m going to be Mrs. Tom Donalan?” she gushed. She reached up and gave him a kiss on the cheek.
“It can’t be too soon for me,” Donalan said, in an obvious ploy to score points with Allie. The guy was unbelievable. Still. His sister did look happy. As long as she stayed that way, then Zeke wouldn’t have a problem with the guy. Maybe Mimi was right and Zeke should reach out. Try to be friends.
“Let’s grab a beer this week,” Zeke said to Tom.
“I’d like that.”
Zeke nodded. “I’ll give you a call.”
“Aw,” Allie said, linking an arm around both men so that she was in between them. “My two favorite guys in the whole world are making a date. Isn’t that sweet?”
Zeke ruffled her hair, making her squeak. “Don’t be a wiseacre.”
She laughed and took off to look at napkins or doilies or something like that. The good natured way Tom followed her scored him another point in Zeke’s book.
Zeke paused a moment to watch his sister as she weaved in and out of the booths. Allie had a big heart. If she found out Sam Grant was trying to contact her and that Zeke had known all along, she would not be happy with him. But the real kicker was this half-sibling thing. Mimi was right. Allie would want to know about that. Maybe after the wedding, or better yet, after she and Tom came back from their honeymoon, he’d approach her on the subject. See what she thought.
